Synchronicity.

The juxtaposition of two things that appear not to be related, that seem to be occurring simultaneously by mere chance, yet are experienced as connected by meaning (rather than causality). A Jungian concept (see The Roots of Coincidence) that resonates with me when I write, when I read, when I teach.

So much of what I try to do with my students is get them to see the synchronicity of ideas. How a concept they encounter in their mathematics course can reappear when we’re reading a post-modern novel. How they might find an echo of a recent physics experiment within an SF short story. How the cadences and ideas of the Romantics find their way into the work of the Modernists. These are the connections that fuel our research, that lead us to spend an entire afternoon at the library not doing the reading we intended to complete but instead chasing a new idea from one author to another, from one discipline to another. Synchronicity is the fuel that powers the engine of thought.

And what powers synchronicity? The liberal arts. Or, if you will, the humanities.

I can hear your eyes starting to roll even now. Who needs the liberal arts? We need STEM courses so our students can get STEM jobs when they graduate — and save the country in the process because we have fallen far behind other nations when it comes to science, technology, engineering and mathematics. Novels and philosophical debates have their place, but that place isn’t front-and-center in the college curriculum. You can’t get a job with an English major. This is what it has come down to: the choice between STEM courses and humanities courses, leaving supporters of the liberal arts to defend what they see as their ever-shrinking disciplines.

Thing is, this either/or is what my philosophy-teacher husband, Gerry, would call a false alternative. We need poetry and physics, sociology and history, philosophy and psychology. A wide swing of the educational pendulum that ends up with the bob firmly stuck on the STEM side means we run the risk of losing what is most human about learning. Why do you think they call it “The Humanities” anyway?

This cuts both ways, of course. Students on the Humanities “side” need to learn about and understand at least the basics of STEM disciplines just as much as students on the STEM “side” need to learn about and understand the basics of the liberal arts.

I am a poet and I am a science geek. No, I can’t explain the physics behind jet propulsion. And I’d get lost trying to untangle string theory. Heck, I usually have to use my fingers when figuring the tip in a restaurant (if I go to hell after I die they’ll make me do math). But I see the beauty in the Large Hadron Collider and the science behind it. I am fascinated by the Golden Ratio, am intrigued by the ROVs used in deep-sea exploration, and was in heaven when my husband and I toured NASA a couple of years ago. My interest in science is as much a part of me as the poetry I write. (And if you don’t believe science and poetry mix, listen to a NASA scientist explain how the gold in her wedding ring came from a distant exploding star, or Stephen Hawking talk about how the material in your right hand would have come from one supernova and the material in your left from a different dying star).

To me, then, the issue isn’t which we need more, the Humanities or STEM. The issue is how do we make sure that each of our students, regardless of her major, regardless of the discipline he is most comfortable in, becomes proficient in the career he or she pursues while at the same times becoming conversant with concepts and ideas from the other “side” of the academic aisle.

[Oh, about those English jobs. How about lawyer, librarian, public relations manager, politician, campaign manager, editor, CEO, stockbroker, archivist, lobbyist, copywriter, journalist or app developer?]